


Under The Table

by Ciphernetics



Category: Gravity Falls, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 19:11:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4316442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciphernetics/pseuds/Ciphernetics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Yep. Smut about Alex Hirsch. We all knew it had to happen at some point.)<br/>What happens when you're stuck under the table during a meeting between Alex and some Disney Executives? Porn. It's porn. Porn happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under The Table

**Author's Note:**

> So someone I knew had a severe crush on the plaidster, and I happened to write some terrible Alex Hirsch x Reader smut for them. Be warned, it’s shameless porn with barely a semblance of plot, and I deeply fear the Hirsch ever finding this, but the shoW MUST GO ON 
> 
> Those of you who made it this far, I commend you.
> 
> And with many, many apologies to The Hirsch, here we go...

By the third game of hangman, you’re pretty sure Alex is just fuckin' with you. There’s no way “bibble” is a real word.

(Later, you’ll look it up, find out it’s real, and send Alex an insulting text. Again.)

“You’re just terrible at this, face it!”

You scowl. “I really don’t think it’s fair. Some of us don’t have the time to waste sitting around googling nonsense words so they can beat their co-workers in stupid games.”

Alex whistles lowly. “Ouch. Sore loser, huh?”

“You’re just a sore winner,” you shoot back. Alex grins and looks down at himself.

“Nah, I feel pretty good actually!”

You roll your eyes at him, but he just smiles wider. God, he’s like a kid sometimes. A tall kid. With a goatee. And a penchant for flannel.

Alex’s phone buzzes, startling you out of your daydreaming, during which you were definitely not staring at Alex.  
He answered it, turning slightly. “Y’ello?”

A tinny murmur came from the mouthpiece, and you watched as the smile dropped from Alex’s face, replaced with something like horror.  
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

He hangs up, sliding the phone back into his pocket. “That was Mel. She said the guys from Disney are, uh, right outside the door.”

_What._

“What.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah they... shit, they’re early. Look, I’m sorry, you’re gonna have to go, it’s part of their thing. They don’t like anyone here who doesn’t need to be. Technically, you shouldn’t even be in here. I-“

Alex is cut off by the doorknob rattling, and his eyes widen.

You panic.

And when you panic, you don’t think straight.

Which is more or less why you ended up diving underneath the huge table.

Alex manages to yelp “wh-“ before the door opens. 

From underneath the table, you see several pairs of immaculate dressed legs enter the room, after about 5 of them have filed in, the last one closes the door behind them with a click.

A male voice speaks, someone you didn’t recognize. “Good afternoon, Mr Hirsch.”

“Uh. Alex. I mean, yeah, good afternoon. Call me Alex.” You’re actually impressed by his ability to act unfazed. 

You tuck your legs underneath you and hold your breath as they all take their seats, Alex in the one closest to you. Luckily, nobody seems to notice. Your presence. You hear papers shuffling around, a few of the Disney story boarders chatting, and- Alex tapping on the desk. In a particular rhythm, one that you recognized. You tap his foot with the same rhythm, and he seems satisfied knowing you’re okay. 

He relaxes slightly, and begins the meeting.

…

God, it’s been forever.

Well, more like 20 minutes but you were bored. Jesus Christ how long does this go for?

Why are the guys from Disney so obsessed with the stupid triangle?

You fiddled with the laces of your shoes for the millionth time.

It’s Alex’s fault you’re here.  
Maybe you need to pay him back a little.

Staring at his legs, one of them kind of bouncing up and down on his heel (nervous energy?) You get an... idea.

Gently, trying not to visible startle him, you touch your fingers to his knee. You can feel his leg jerk slightly at the sudden contact, and you can’t help grinning. To his credit, his voice barely falters- if you hadn’t been listening you wouldn’t have caught it. 

His foot nudges you, a sort of “what the hell are you doing”, but you just push it away.

You slide your hand along the top of his thigh. The texture of his jeans makes your fingernails vibrate. When your fingertips are about halfway along, you drag them back, just as slowly.

You being to do the same thing with your other hand, moving both in tandem along Alex’s thighs, back and forth. With each pass, you let your hands creep closer to his zipper, and even from down here you can actually see the tension in his body. He’s sitting up uncomfortable straight, and if you had to guess you’d say his hands with holding his pen a little tighter than usual.

But he still hasn’t stopped you.

Running your tongue along the inside of your teeth, you lightly trace a finger down the length of his zipper. This time, his sharp intake of breath is audible, and you go still.

“Is something wrong, Mr Hirsch? You want to say something?”

Shit, who was that? One of the execs? The room is quiet for a moment.

“No, Sorry, no, -I... I bit my tongue.” 

Smooth cover.

The chatter slowly resumes, and you bring your focus back down. And grin.

Alex’s jeans are starting to get a little tight, and the sight sends a delicious wave of heat through your stomach. You reach forward to touch the bulge, running your fingers over the outline of the head. As you watch, the shape only swells, straining against his jeans. 

You press your fingers a little harder, running them along the length of his erection like a promise of what he could have. In his seat, Alex slumps down slightly, sliding his hips forward a few inches.

You guess that means he doesn’t want you to stop.

For a minute or so, you keep stroking him through the fabric, listening to the buzz of conversation above you, the shuffle of paper moving and the clunk of mugs being picked up and set down. 

It seems safe enough, you think.

As slow as you can manage, you tug Alex’s zipper down and undo the single brass button. His cock twitches, some of the pressure relieved, and you gently manoeuvre the fly of his jeans, letting it emerge somewhat. 

For a moment, you just look. The fact that Alex (or anyone for that matter) couldn’t see you may have been part of the reason you were feeling so… well, for lack of a better word, shameless.

It feels a lot warmer under this table than it should.

Getting to your knees (as much as you could without hitting your head) you brace both hands on Alex’s knees and pushed them apart, leaning forward. You hover your mouth over the outline of his cock, breathing warmly on the thin fabric that still covered it. You feel the muscles in his thighs tense up, and a wave of self-satisfaction prompts you to go a little further. You let your lips graze the head of his cock like a kiss, and you barely hear the sigh that rips from Alex’s lips.

Slowly, you tug down the waistband of his boxers, pulling them past his cock and allowing it to spring free. What little of his stomach you can see from this angle twitches as cool air hits him. Above you, the others are still talking, exchanging ideas, but Alex seems a little quiet.

Wonder why.

You wrap one hand around the base, lowering your mouth to the flushed head. You don’t move your tongue quiet yet; just slowly lower your head as much as you can, surrounding his cock in the soft, wet warmth of your mouth. 

You stay on him for as long as you can, until the feeling starts to get uncomfortable and your throat contracts warningly. You quickly but quietly pull back, and despite your best efforts a string of saliva still connects your lips to his cock. 

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and catch your breath.

Alex’s poker face is commendable. You’d barely know something was wrong, if you weren’t, y’know, currently still holding his erection. 

His breath hitches slightly about you, and you realize you’d unconsciously tightened your grip on him. Quickly you loosen it, but the pulse that thrums through the skin under your fingers makes you want to try it again. So you do.

Lazily, finger by finger, you squeeze. 

Alex breathes out, long and slow, like a sigh. The tingling in your stomach sets a smile on your face.

A pearly drop of fluid begins to well up at the head, and the urge to lick it away is... well, you’ve never been very good at saying ‘no’ to yourself. You lean forward.

Alex drops something. 

It actually makes you jump. Sounds heavy enough to be a stapler, or his phone, or something.

“Sorry. Just- Clumsy fingers,” he laughs, (kind of awkwardly.)

You smirk. Clumsy isn’t the word you’d use for those fingers.

Alex is shifting in his seat, now. Barely imperceptible rolls of his hips, nothing that could possible help him but you know what it really means- he’s asking, begging even.  
You open your mouth and wrap your lips around his length, running your tongue across the ridge of the head. Your hand begins a steady rhythm of strokes along what your mouth doesn’t cover.

Maybe it’s just your imagination, but you’d swear Alex’s skin, his blood, is getting hotter with each passing minute.

After a few minutes, your jaw is starting to ache, and Alex hasn’t done something embarrassing in a while. You have an idea. You’re not entirely confident it’ll go the way you hope, but what’s life without a little risk-taking?

On the next slow drag of your mouth backwards, you (very carefully) let your teeth scrape, unbearably light, along the sensitive flesh of his cock.

Alex is mid-sentence, and wow- when was the last time you’d heard his voice crack like that?

God.

The sound of it really... does something to you. 

A wave of warmth rolls through your stomach, stealing the breath from your lunges, and your entire lower half just... throbs.

It’s... okay to be a little selfish, every now and then, right?

Right, you decide. Absolutely.

Your unoccupied hand falls between your legs and you press it flat against yourself, grinding your hips against it. It’s addictive, settling over your nerves like syrup. (Without realizing, you started absently chewing on your bottom lip.)

A tap of Alex’s foot make you realize that your head had gone still, too distracted by your own sensations to focus. A spike of annoyance goes through you- That was actually kind of rude of him.

In fact, maybe you should punish him for it.

You sit back on your heels, leaving just your hand loosely clasped around Alex’s cock. With deliberately light pressure, you stroke the length of him, too slow to be anything but infuriating.

Above you, Alex hisses something under his breath, and after a moment of thought, you realize he was swearing.

And you just knew he was aiming it at you. 

You’d almost feel bad, if you weren’t enjoying this so much.

You rest your head against his knee, just enjoying the almost hypnotic movement of your fingers sliding along heated flesh.  
Actually, the drag is starting to get rougher, now that you notice it. Foolishly, you didn’t actually think to carry lube with you at all times, so you’ll have to improvise.

You lean forward slightly, tilting your head and sticking out your tongue. Slowly, you drag the flat of your tongue from the base of his cock to the tip, like an ice cream. 

The skin is blood-hot against your tongue, and you can feel every throb of the veins along his cock, in detail. It twitches in your grip, aching for something more and you smirk, (even though Alex can’t see you. But he can probably feel the shape of your lips curving into that evil smile, huh.) Evil as you are, though, you’re not exactly unaffected yourself, and with each throb from the length in your grip your lower body echoes with one if its own. You dig your nails into the palm of your free hand and try to ignore it, for now.

You lick one last languid wet stripe up the length of his cock, and finish it with a flick of your tongue against his slit, tasting the salty tang of precome. This close, you can actually see Alex’s breathing hitch. He’s sounding a little worse for wear up there- a couple of the things he’d said hadn’t made a whole lot of sense, and surely someone was going to notice his accelerated breathing sooner or later.

Suddenly, one of his hands darts under the table, finding your wrist, still stroking. He wraps his fingers around it and squeezes gently, and it feels like a soft ‘please’. Before you can really respond in any way, his hand is gone, back over the table.

Well, he asked nicely.

Buut… what has he done for you lately?

Instead, you move both hands between your own legs, grinding circles against them. Again, you stick out your tongue, but this time you don’t use the whole of it. No, this time, you just use the tip, tracing it along every single throbbing vein, teasing. 

He’s going to crack, you can tell. He’s breathing like a liar in court, barely even answering questions any more. Something about the way you ghost the tip of your tongue along his cock is killing him slowly, and god wasn’t that just perfect. Your hips have started to grind against your hands, aching for something more.

Beads of precome pearl at the head, spilling over onto your fingers. You clean it off, following the trail left until the tip of your tongue presses against his slit.  
At the touch, Alex’s hips roll forward as much as he can, trying to thrust into your mouth without moving. He seems desperate.

You decide he deserves a bit of mercy, so you abandon your own needs (you can make him take care of that later, anyway) and place both hands firmly on his thighs, stilling his movement.

On your knees, you lean forward and fit your mouth over his cock, increasing the suction of your cheeks and taking it as far down as you can manage. Above you, you can hear what sounds like nails scratching against the wood. 

You move your head a bit faster, lingering on the head with every pass. Your fingers are kind of digging into Alex’s jeans but it’s a necessity; you can feel the muscles of his thighs straining against your palms, desperate to just rut into your mouth. But he can’t. You won’t let him.

It’s at this point that, just for a moment, Alex breaks.

“Ooohhh my goddd,” he mutters, leaning back in his chair and covering his face with a hand, the other still digging into the table.

“Is something the matter, Mr Hirsch?” somebody across the room asks. You don’t recognize the voice.

Alex doesn’t move. “Yeah- yup, yeah. I’m just… tired. You guys keep talking without me for a bit,” he manages to wheeze.

You barely hold back a snort of laughter.

He’s given up. He’s too close to keep up the act, so he just sits there, slouching in his chair while conversation flows around the both of you.

You speed up, relishing the delicious texture of veins sliding against the soft skin of your lips. Alex fidgets his hips desperate to rock forward. His cock throbs almost painfully in your mouth. He’s so, so close, he’s almost, fuck- he just- he needs-

And that’s when you stop.

You sit back on your heels, just watching the way his cock twitches, desperate for release. The pathetic sound he makes is swallowed up by conversation, but you heard it.  
God, your stomach flips. You can’t help it; you let your hands crawl back between your legs. You’re almost biting clean through your lip but you’re starting to find it hard to think past your own throbbing body.

A pen rolls off the table and lands on the floor beside you, and for a moment a cold fear paralyses your body.

“I’ll-… I’ll.. get that.”

That’s Alex’s voice.

Oh, that’s clever.

You let yourself relax, resuming the subtle gyrations of your hips. Alex scoots back and ducks underneath the table, just enough to make eye contact.

Fuck.

He looks… well, ruined, to put it nicely. 

A shudder races through you.

His eyes flick between your hands and your face, and on a whim you decide to give him the most wicked smile you can conjure, grinding showily against your hands, and oh, wow, his face.

His eyes go impossibly wide, and it’s a miracle his bottom lip hasn’t been torn to shreds already. There’s only so long you can be ‘getting a pen’, though, and before he sits back up he mouths a words to you through gritted teeth.

“Please.”

Well, he did ask nicely.

You lean forward again, letting the warmth of your breath ghost over his cock, relishing the twitch of anticipation. Before you can start, however, one of his hands darts down, tangling itself in your hair. His fingers tighten almost painfully, and your stomach flips. You may have gone a little... too far.

Your skin prickles as forcefully, your face is dragged forward until the head of his cock bumps against your lips. Obediently, you open your mouth, giving up any semblance of resistance. You pushed him too far and now he’s just going to take.

He drags you down, further than you can take it. The muscles in your throat protest and tears prick at the back of your eyes. Thankfully, Alex seems to realize, and he eases you back, just enough to breathe comfortably. 

Alex’s hand slides through your hair, until he’s gripping you by the back of your neck, a bearable pressure on your throat.

Above you, he’s completely silent, and the others seem too engrossed in their own conversations to notice the stormy look on his face or the teeth marks turning purple on his bottom lip.

His grip tightened, and you’ve lost any upper hand you had because he drags you forward again, and you let him. 

He’s using you.

Your head feels hazy, and somewhere in it you wonder when exactly one of your hands had crept into the waistband of your underwear and started rubbing yourself. Though your mouth is occupied, you wonder if Alex can hear your mind chanting ‘please, please, fucking please,’ and if he could, would it even make a difference at this point?

His fingernails are digging into the back of your neck. Your entire body feels lit up, hypersensitive, and you barely hold back a moan. 

He pulls you down one last time and holds you there. At the same time, he rolls his hips upwards. They’re- no, his entire body- is shaking. Against your tongue, his cock pulses in waves, each throb sending bitter liquid down your throat, painting your tongue. Alex’s entire body seems to curl forward, and hey lays his head against the table with a barely restrained grunt.

Finally, after forever, his grip loosens, his entire body slouching at the same time. You withdraw gingerly, and a milky string of come mixed with saliva still connects you. You swallow what’s left in the back of your throat and wipe your mouth off. Your head is spinning, and any moment now you’re sure you might burst into flames. Alex may have broken, but you’ve broken with him, and the sight of him going over the edge has wrecked you.

You rest your forehead against his knee, rubbing yourself feverishly. You need this, so badly, so so badly. After a moment, Alex’s hand finds its way back to your hair. He’s not pulling though, not this time. He just runs his fingers through it, petting you gently, and it feels too much like he’s telling you what a good pet you are.

His hand moves to your check, and his thumb trails across your skin, across your swollen lips. You open them, curling your tongue around some of his fingers and pulling them into your mouth. You work them over frantically, swirling your tongue around and around while your own hands are working yourself.

You know your favourite spots- you find them immediately and abuse them. This isn’t the time to go easy; you just need to fucking- get off!

The world around you seems to disappear, and all you can focus on is Alex’s fingers in your mouth and your aching body. It’s all you can do to keep quiet, to keep your breathing from giving anything away.

You’re- fuck, you’re so close.

You want to scream as you come. You want to cry, to moan, to gasp. 

Instead, you bite down on Alex’s fingers.

Your whole body seizes up, jerking forward. Your head, your mind is- gone, it’s so much it’s not enough and you can’t t h i n k

Waves of pleasure storm through you, static cracking in your ears. You can’t suppress the violent shivers twitching your skin, nor the small aftershocks that continue to roll through for a little while. 

You slump against Alex’s leg, letting his fingers slip from your mouth. He wipes it clean on his jeans and resumes petting your head, and there’s something so… intimate about it. You’re completely drained, and you can’t even imagine how Alex is feeling. As you catch your breath, you close your eyes, basking in the feeling.at some point, a thought strikes you. This meeting isn’t even over for two hours.

Maybe you can go again.

**Author's Note:**

> WELP. There it is.  
> Please, do leave a review and tell me how disgusted you are.


End file.
